


The Worst of Times

by sidebyside_archivist



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-01
Updated: 2006-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25498519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidebyside_archivist/pseuds/sidebyside_archivist
Summary: After Kahn, Kirk grieves.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Kudos: 9
Collections: Side By Side Issue 20





	The Worst of Times

**Author's Note:**

> Note from LadyKardasi and Sahviere, the archivists: this story was originally archived at [Side by Side](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Side_by_Side_\(Star_Trek:_TOS_zine\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2020. We tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Side by Side’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sidebyside/profile).

> _"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."  
> _
>
>> _**Charles Dickens, A Tale Of Two Cities** _

"Night-time" on the Enterprise is normally a quiet time since ship's systems duplicate a Earth's diurnal cycle of twenty-four hours. Tonight is different. Tonight it is noisy and bright-lit. Tonight is full of anguish, both shared and solitary.

Shipmates are united in combined relief and grieving. Relief they are not part of the earth-like planet revolving beneath their damaged, but not dead, silver ship. Grief because of the sacrifice of one of her own, a half-Vulcan hybrid, a man whose true home was on this ship, near the one man he loved with all his heart, all his soul.

That man stands alone in the observation deck staring at the stars whose beauty he had known and wanted to walk among since childhood. He has seen his share of tragedy and joy; this grief wells up from the deepest part of his soul, springing from the sacrifice that saved his life and the lives of almost four hundred young cadets whose first training mission was to be a short jaunt out beyond Cochrane's Limit and back. He does not see the stars, only memory.

It's the first day of his first command on Enterprise, and he is so young, so full of confidence. He has made the rounds of his new ship, met most of his crew; he has shaken hands, and memorized faces and names. Finally he steps onto the bridge, unannounced, to meet his senior staff, and sees a soon-to-be-familiar sight, a lean form bent over the viewer at the science station. He has done his research, this is the Vulcan, Spock, known for his brilliance and impeccable record. Spock is the only non-human on _Enterprise_ , and Jim is determined to make him welcome. He knows Spock holds the only A-7 computer rating in StarFleet, and that he's a Grand Master at chess, Jim's favorite strategy game. He will ask the Vulcan to play with him.

What he's not prepared for is the sheer attractiveness of the man. He is tall, almost saturnine in appearance, with upswept brows under a cap of glossy hair that shines with chocolate and blue highlights. The pointed ears are elegant, as are the long fingers which play the science console like a fine musical instrument. The baritone voice is almost musical when he speaks of data which should sound spare and uninviting, but which from his throat sound as if he is reciting poetry.

Jim, whose primary interest has usually been female, suddenly finds himself dreaming of those long fingers and spare body. Without knowing it, he begins falling in love with the remarkable man who becomes his friend, then his closest confidante, and who unbeknownst to Jim, is falling in love with him.

It's again the night after the battle with the Romulans and _Enterprise_ has narrowly avoided a galactic war. Jim is weary, and taking the death of a crewman hard. It's something he's never gotten used to and hopes he never will.

Spock is rubbing his shoulders, and somehow seems to know what he really wants. Jim stands, then they are kissing, with something urgent between them both. He remembers the quiet joy as they shared their bodies with one another. And how Spock had kept hidden the knowledge that he was promised to another, so long before.

How, even so, they began making a space for each other in their hearts and souls. He remembers again that terrible day when Spock reluctantly admitted in distress his prior bonding, and how empty his heart had felt as he contemplated sharing Spock with another, or worse, losing him.

Spock is telling him he does not desire the bond with T'Pring, it was done when they were children, and Vulcan biology leaves no choice. He hears Spock's voice, quietly telling him he hopes they can still continue as they had been, but that he understands if Jim wants to end it. Jim does not.

Once again he stands on the hot sands of Vulcan, under the red sun of Eridani 40, watching Spock transform from his gentle friend into someone unrecognizable in the blood fever--the Plak Tow, the madness of the mating drive, the pon farr. He sees Spock's dark eyes glittering like opaque onyx; sees only blind hatred in them as Spock swings the blade of the lirpa, slicing open Jim's gold command shirt and opening a line of red across his breast. Jim suddenly can't breathe and his last conscious sight is Spock's suddenly horrified expression. Next he is waking in sickbay, relieved to be alive, being told he nearly wasn't.

He goes for a shower and change and comes back in time to see Spock's back, slightly curved in defeat. Spock is trying to turn command over to Scott, and he's prepared to die.

Then, as Spock sees him, he is swung around and Spock grins. Grins! Even though he tries to explain it away. Spock explains to him privately that he is still pon farr. He's telling Spock that he finally discovered what he had--what he wanted--when he thought he'd lose it forever.

Spock learns his Time is nothing to fear, with the right bondmate. And both of them know this is it, this is what they've been searching for, that they are destined each for the other, soulmates. Neither of them will be alone again. Spock teaches him a new Vulcan word: T'hy'la. It's the rare bond of two destined to be one. Lovers. Brothers. Friends. More. An uncommon thing, it is virtually unknown among modern Vulcans, but these two have somehow formed this bond.

It is this bond, formed spontaneously between them, that saved Spock's life. This is the bond recognized by both T'Pring and T'Pau, when Spock, ignorant as when he left Vulcan, had come to the ancient marriage grounds. Spock is wary, fearful Jim will want it broken, since he did not ask for it. Again he sees the hope and wonder when he tells Spock that he wanted this bond as much as Spock himself has.

And the sex! He had thought it good before this. He is again with Spock the first time they meld, and discovers what Spock had been so carefully denying himself in their love-making from the first. This was right, beyond anything Jim had ever experienced. He knows it again; each time they joined bodies and minds was as joyful as the first.

He sees the years advance through the end of the five year mission, and he relives it all: the seemingly endless press conferences, and the quiet talks with his husband, his bondmate. Their joint decision to keep their privacy, not be pressured into a public marriage, unnecessary since their bond is legally recognized on Vulcan, and hence StarFleet. They can continue to serve together. Even without a public declaring, they live in the same quarters during the debriefings, and by some miracle, it's never commented on by the geraldos.

He sees the face of his lover, his husband, his bondmate, on the day they press their thumbprints to the documents that bought them their first home after _Enterprise_ : peace, hope, pride as they contemplate setting up a real home for the first time. After the movers and decorators leave, they spend hours in foreplay and energetic lovemaking in the living room. He sees again Spock telling him he would like to see Jim's face by firelight, and his surpris and joy on the day when Jim has a fireplace installed. He sees the two of them, making love or cuddling in the glow of its flames.

He sees the darker times, too. He hears Spock telling him that after the mandatory two years' ground assignments, he wants to serve under Jim again, and the arguments that follow when Jim accepted promotion as the youngest Admiral in StarFleet history, knowing that this practically guaranteed he would never captain a ship again. The fights when Jim seems to accept his desk job.

His memory drifts reluctantly to the darkest evening--the one when he arrived home to an apartment empty of the presence of his bondmate. Again, he plays Spock's taped message saying he is on his way to Vulcan, to Gol, to sever the Bond, and would not return. How he must believe it, but is by turns angry and defeated. He hears Lori Ciani arguing that Spock is gone forever, and signs the contract for a one year marriage that would not last six months.

He relives the arguments with Lori. Her complaint that she's tired of competing with Spock's ghost. Then the awful week when his bondmate is so vividly in his head again, and he knows Spock is going through his Time. It drives Jim mad for some time until he wakes up sane, certain Spock is alive, even as the strands of the Bond that pulled at him have faded once again. Feels relief mingled with joy that he knows Spock is still alive. It hurts, even though Jim knows he won't see him again, but he will try to make the knowledge that he lives enough for him.

He feels again the momentary surge of joy when Spock walks onto the bridge of the newly rebuilt _Enterprise_ and then plunges again into bleakness when Spock treats him as if they had never known each other. Again, the joy floods through him when they clasped hands, knowing that whatever happened, they will never again leave each other alone.

In his memory he is standing with Spock on the hot sands of Vulcan, having the ceremony symbolizing the life-bond, ending only when one or both died, that their minds had already made reality. Jim reflects on how he wants to go first, selfishly not wishing to live his last years alone, and knowing it likely considering the longer Vulcan lifespan. A stray thought erupts tonight as he walks memory's path, "It doesn't pay to tempt the gods."

His mother's face comes from memory. How his mother looked, in what proved to be the last years of her life, though neither knew, as she watches her remaining child marry the man he loves more than life itself. She is resigned, but happy. Uncertain but seeing her son's evident happiness in this strangest of mates, as she thought before she'd gotten to know the man she later admired, even loved, as her eulogy and farewell statements will later prove.

Sees again the open pride in Sarek's face and the love in Amanda's, as they welcome him as a son of their clan, and the joy glimmering in Spock's eyes, that is reflected in his own.

The years march on in his memory, the face in his shaving mirror changes as lines etch into the corners of his eyes, and his hair grows both darker and grayer with the years. The years likewise reflected in his and his mates thicker body's. The scars Spock got at Gol deepen as he otherwise gracefully ages, his hair not showing a hint of silver yet, but still as soft and silken as ever in its perennial Vulcan style.

He is reliving the long year they spent apart as he continues to divide his time between _Enterprise_ and Command, helping train cadets. Spock leaves him with kisses, caresses, and a promise to return as he pleads an urgent mission. Later Jim knows this is the rescue of the children from Hellguard. He learns from Spock about the former colony and experimental world where Romulans had imprisoned captured Vulcans and bred with them. How they created children whose Vulcan parents then were killed, and the children themselves soon abandoned. Spock explains how he intercepted encrypted files from the Vulcan Council and disagreed with their intent to isolate and hide these children born of rape. He hears the outrage in Spock's voice, as he attempts to tell him dispassionately of the reinstatement of most of the children to their Vulcan families. How he has shamed Vulcan into what should have been done in the first place.

Spock tells him again of the half-wild, half-grown girl who had stated unequivocally that she did not want to know her Vulcan family. Spock has fallen in love again, he wants to raise this child. Jim can't deny him anything, and she is a plucky little thing. He tells his husband to take the time he needs and come home when he can. I'll miss you, he says again.

Spock takes fourteen months to tame her, then places her with his mother. Amanda cares for her and helps Saavik in her quest to follow the man she thinks of as her father. She enters StarFleet Academy, and reunited with his mate, Jim hears again the pride in Spock's voice when he relays her entrance scores as well as each time she succeeds in placing at the top her of her class.

Has it been only a week since he met Saavik for the first time? How tenderly Spock and he had made love that night. It seems so long ago, like a dream.

All these images come one after another, a collage of the years, culminating in the final horrifying image--his husband's blind face on the other side of the transparent lead barrier, saying goodbye. He relives another thousand times the pain of knowing these are his love's final moments and yet they cannot touch. Hears echoes of Scotty's despairing voice, "Ye'll flood the whole compartment!" as he slumps again, momentarily defeated in his wish to get to Spock. He pushes away from those holding him, moves toward the transparent lead barrier, thumbs the intercom. Over and over, he sees, in slow motion as Spock stands and characteristically straightens his jacket. For a few heart-breaking moments he thinks, _He's all right_ , then in the next hears again, "he's already dead," and knows it to be true.

He watches the smears of green--his beautiful bondmate's lifeblood--that accompany his blind movements to lay his hand against the transparency. He knows that they cannot touch, but feeling again as the bright mind within him fades, dies. "Live long and prosper, Admiral," he hears, just before the last spark goes, taking with it their bond. "I have been and always shall be your friend."

Reliving the moment when he slumps down by his husband's body, empty now of all that made Spock the unique being he was. Jim wonders how can he go on breathing and his heart can go on beating? How can the stars can still shine, brilliant dots against the black of space? The pain is horrendous.

The door slides open, it's Bones. "I thought I'd find you here," comes the voice, rougher than he remembers. _Of course, Bones must be grieving, too. But dammit, he was my husband. My other half. My best half_ , he thinks. For a minute he is selfish the way a man in pain is. Then he remembers Bones is his friend, and was Spock's too, and turns an anguished face to the kind and warm blue eyes.

They hug for a moment, a long moment, until Jim pulls away. "I'll be all right," he says automatically. Tries to put on his command bravo, fails utterly. Then, "What am I going to do?" This last is a plea. "Bones, I can't even cry. I can't make myself believe it's real. This is all my fault."

"Jim, you aren't the center of the universe, you know. Bad things happen, and even Admiral Kirk can't stop them all."

"I don't mean that. Fifteen years ago, Bones, I let that man go. If I hadn't, then this would never have happened."

Bones lays his hand on Jim's, and for a moment, Jim hears an echo of a warm baritone. "To waste time in 'what ifs' is illogical."

Jim looks sharply at his friend, but he sees no hint of parody. Does he even realize who he sounded like? Apparently not. Jim hugs Bones again, "Dammit. Sometimes you make sense, you know?"

Bones hugs back, "That's why I'm the doctor." He grows serious for a moment. "I don't know if it makes any sense, but sometimes I swear I'm gonna turn around and he'll be standing there, quirking his eyebrow at us both." He rubs his face tiredly, "I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I tried to stop him, but if I had, we'd all have died. We'd all be part of that planet out there."

Jim sighs. "I know. I know. I just can't make myself believe he's gone for good. I _know_ I should be grateful for what we had. I _know_ it should be enough. But Bones, he should have outlived us all. And now he's gone..." He pushes himself away for a moment, not ungently, and straightens his jacket in an unconscious imitation of Spock's last moments.

"Jim, I dunno if this'll help, but I'm gonna try. I think I said this to you once before, but it's truer now than then. In all this vastness," he waves his hand at the stars outside, "There's billions and billions of suns that sustain life. And around those, a million million earth-like planets. And on those planets, there're billions of beings, each one unique. Don't waste the one called Jim."

Jim laughs gently. There's little humor in the sound, but he tries to sound reassuring. "I'll be all right," he repeats, though he's far from sure. What will he do with the rest of his life, now that the one being who gave it meaning and pleasure is gone?

He'll learn to endure. It's what Spock would want, he knows that to the fiber of his being. He'll honor this great gift his husband has given him. He's still got his son, the young man he's finally going to be allowed to get to know, he hopes. He's still got _Enterprise_ , as crippled as she is. He may not be allowed to keep her, once they repair her, but at this point his silver lady has lost her luster. He's just glad most of the young cadets are safe.

He looks out at then new planet, turning beneath his feet, and back at the stars whose steady light reminds him again of how much he's lost. He sighs, a resigned sound. "I'm going to try to finish that book Spock gave me. Maybe it'll tell me something. 'It was the best of times; it was the worst of times'. Bones, every time with him was the best. I should be grateful for all we did have, shouldn't I?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. Just walks back to his quarters, looks at the bunk, and remembers their last time. If he'd known it was the last he'd have made it last longer. He'd have wrung from it every moment the universe would give him. He'd have said again to Spock how much he meant to him, how much he loved him. He knows as he thinks it that Spock knew. Spock never lived life halfway, and Jim cannot either.

Sitting down, he picks up his book, the last birthday gift from his husband. He tries to adjusts his reading glasses, then tosses them in disgust at the table. One of the lenses is broken, one more casualty of Kahn's hatred. Jim holds the book at arm's length, and can almost see enough to read it. He's stalling for time, he knows, trying to avoid thinking about life without Spock.

He hears the door chime and knows at once who it has to be. It's David. Maybe it's time, Jim thinks, to learn to face the death he's always held at arm's length. Maybe it's time he learned not to be afraid to live. Spock is gone, but David is alive. Saavik is alive. James Kirk is alive. That has to be enough.

He'll get to know David. He'll tell Saavik about her father. He'll learn how to live the way Spock lived--with joy and the intense sense of wonder he brought to every day, every moment. He'll embrace life for Spock's sake, and for his own.

Somehow he thinks Spock would approve.


End file.
